


Most Sacred

by she_who_the_river_could_not_hold



Series: Fics for t100 Fic for BLM Initiative [5]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon-Typical Violence for the Movie (not show), Character Death, Cult!Bellamy but with the personality of his normal self, Cults, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, F/M, Gaslighting, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Inspired by Midsommar (2019), Minor Finn Collins/Clarke Griffin, Season 7 inspired, Unhealthy Relationships, aka they're dating in this fic but it's almost over, heed the tags, our favorites live, tags will update as needed with new chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:00:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28861455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/she_who_the_river_could_not_hold/pseuds/she_who_the_river_could_not_hold
Summary: The death of Clarke Griffin’s parents and sister throws her life and her relationship off-kilter. So when the opportunity comes up for her to join her boyfriend and his friends to travel with Bellamy Blake to his hometown in Bardo, she takes it. While there, they’ll get the chance to experience his community’s fabled Red Sun Festival, a once every ninety-years celebration.Once there though, the idyllic trip takes a turn as she finds herself becoming more integrated into the community and with Bellamy. And maybe discovers a different side to herself along the way.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Series: Fics for t100 Fic for BLM Initiative [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2069367
Comments: 36
Kudos: 42
Collections: The t100 Writers for BLM Initiative





	1. Three Deaths and A Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Buckle up for a super long author’s note for this fic! 
> 
> **First:** a huge thank you to the anonymous prompter who prompted this for me through t100 Fic for BLM. If this is the first you’ve heard of it, it’s an initiative where writers and content creators are accepting prompts for donations that help support the BLM cause. If you want to learn more about it, you can check out the carrd for it [here](https://t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co/)! I wouldn’t shut up about this idea online and I’m grateful someone else was curious about it!
> 
> Now onto the warnings. Because yes, this is directly inspired by Ari Aster’s movie, Midsommar. I’ve had this idea since about the middle of season seven, but never felt quite inspired. But then as I thought about it more, the more intrigued I became to write it. The characters and arcs began to fall into place and it also gave me a sense of catharsis to do my own version of a cult!Bellamy. One of the challenges I wanted to approach in this fic was to let the characters feel authentically canon, while also keeping them in this setting. [Here's the link to the moodboard on Tumblr](https://she-who-the-river-could-not-hold.tumblr.com/post/640775314936659968/most-sacred-a-bellarke-midsommar-au-written-for)!
> 
> If you’ve seen the movie, you know what’s coming. If you haven’t, I’ve made sure to tag everything so far I can guarantee happens in this fic. **Please heeds the tags.** I’ll do everything I can to make sure they’re up to date with each chapter, but this is your heads up that this fic will lean dark and feature some uncomfortable topics. If that isn’t for you, or this isn’t the escape you’re looking for with these characters, I totally get that! If you have any questions or concerns before starting, please feel free to reach out to me on Tumblr or Twitter. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy it and stick around!

_“You start with the unfathomable and you end with the unfathomable.” – Ari Aster_

It was a call that she had always suspected she would get. 

One that had been a looming threat over all of their heads, waiting for the shoe to drop one day. A call that she had been warned could be a potential life-changing moment. 

But Clarke Griffin had never thought her sister would take their parents out with her too when she finally did what she’d always sworn she’d do in her darkest moments. 

It was a bad winter in Polis that year and the linoleum had been freezing beneath Clarke’s bare feet as she paced up and down her small apartment’s kitchen. She hadn’t had it in her to go look for socks. Not when that would require her to step away from her computer where she had Josie’s last instant messages still up, followed by at least twenty from her begging for her sister to answer. She was also waiting for a response from either her mom or her dad. Clarke hadn’t ever known her parents to not answer a phone call. She’d left a lengthy message for them about an hour ago, babbling on nervously in it. Though to be fair to them, it was the middle of the night. Her mom wasn’t on call at the hospital tonight so she was probably embracing being able to get a full night’s sleep.

When her phone had finally buzzed, two hours after her last message to Josie and an hour after calling her parents, she’d been slumped against the refrigerator, absent-mindedly picking at her cuticles (despite childhood memories of her mom lecturing her about destroying her pretty hands that way). The sharp, drawn-out beep from her phone, changed to something more blaring and obvious since she’d seen Josie’s first message earlier that day, had made her jolt forward as she stumbled towards her phone resting on the kitchen counter.

_“... a double murder-suicide…”_

Josie had always been the loud one of the two, attention-seeking. Flirty, bratty, and downright rude sometimes if you were anyone but Clarke. She even kept her other supposed best friend, Kaylee, was usually on thin ice at all times. But her volatile behavior hadn’t just been a teenage girl struggling to contain her emotions. The therapist appointments doubled as she got older. She somehow convinced the woman to let Clarke sit in with her –– surely a violation of something. But Clarke had been there alongside her from day one at the appointments, Josie’s iron grip on her hand the only indication that she didn’t feel as strong as she was presenting. 

_“... carbon monoxide from the family car in the garage…”_

Maybe the tipping point had been the guy from her Biology 101 class shooting himself in the middle of the campus dining hall, collapsing into her plate of Indian food and splattering her with blood. Maybe the tipping point had been when her ex-boyfriend had succumbed to threatening a restraining order because Josie only knew how to love like a boa constrictor, squeezing tighter and tighter the more she loved you. Maybe the tipping point had been nothing at all, just something she’d decided while making her morning coffee that day as simply as she decided what to wear.

_“... we’re so sorry for your loss…”_

Clarke’s scream of anguish echoed through the phone and reverberated through the halls of her apartment; a person pausing on the sidewalk at the sound as snowflakes swirled quietly down to the ground.

* * *

The party had been Finn’s idea. And really, she was thankful for her boyfriend. She hadn’t been outside of her apartment for... a month? Two months? He’d told her it was high time she had a distraction and he probably wasn’t wrong. The grieving process probably wasn’t even supposed to take this long.

That was Finn Collins in a nutshell, the problem solver. While it was a role that she’d often (read: always) taken on in her life, it was nice with him that she didn’t always have to think about that stuff. Where she was uptight, he was relaxed. Everything had a simple solution through his lens of the world, versus her tendency to overthink and complicate things. 

They’d met here in grad school. Finn was studying under the framework of cultural anthropology, with a focus on philosophy. It was one of the things that had drawn Clarke to him. Too used to high school and early college boys waxing poetry about wars and battles that didn’t interest her, she’d been fascinated by his thoughtful nature and insistence on always studying both sides of every story. It did mean though that she didn’t necessarily click with all of his friends at parties. She was just studying art therapy; a lot of what they all talked about went over her head. But she was always thankful for time spent with Finn and especially after the way she had been leaning on him after the funerals. It was the least she could do. 

The party was at some guy’s place; she was pretty sure his name was Mbege. It had that industrial sort of vibe with all of that exposed brick. She would consider his decor a mixture of “eclectic grad student” mixed with “I’m a guy who still has my mom help me decorate my apartment.”

Not too shabby though.

Thinking about moms made her eyes prickle with tears though, so she quickly shifted her focus away from that. 

She’d promised Finn before they got here that she wouldn’t cry in public. He’d said it would only further stress her out, in turn stressing out others, who would feel bad that they didn’t know how to comfort her. The girl who’s sister killed their parents and then herself. 

She gulped back the beer that she’d been handed by some girl when they’d walked in. She hated IPAs but that was apparently what these types of students drank. It was all she could see around the apartment. In a vague sort of way, It made a part of her miss her college days and the mystery of the buckets wedged deep into the depths of grimy kitchens.

“I’m so dreading summer,” bemoaned a voice to her side. “Stuck in Mecha while my dad watches that wrestling show, ‘The Conclave’, all day long.”

Clarke shook her head, clearing her mind of the distracted thoughts that hazed over. That was right––she was standing next to a group of students as everyone talked, or more so complained, about upcoming plans for the year. 

It was all they ever seemed to do. No one really lived in the moment, or so she’d gathered since meeting Finn. Of the group she was standing with, she primarily knew three of the others. 

Dax was the loudest one, his extra height helping him take up even more space alongside his usually spread-out legs. It was as if he had to make sure that everyone was always aware of his presence. He always looked cold, his features sharp. Maybe on someone else it would have been attractive, model-like. On him it was too angular, gaunt. Clarke put up with him and seemingly he had a similar approach to her as well. It was hard for her to connect with a guy that was such a wannabe player while being a douche bag with a capital D. She hadn’t been surprised when Finn had introduced him as getting a masters in business finance.

Atom, standing to Dax’s side in between him and Finn, was more of a peer to Clarke. He had a cockiness to him, a thread that linked the guys, but at least it was rooted in academic achievement. While he had more handsome features than Dax, he was too aloof and disinterested in dating anyone. His academic career was everything, sharing the same study as Finn with cultural anthropology. There was an unspoken competition between the two of them. Clarke was mainly just glad that Finn never asked her who she thought would come out on top, she always had a hard time lying.

She swallowed back some more beer, trying to fight the grimace at it. She’d never owned a flask before, but if Finn was comfortable bringing her to more of these parties again, maybe it would be worth bringing one. Hopefully he wouldn't be offended, but she could only take so much more of this type of beer. 

Once she’d chugged it, she tried to bring her focus back to the conversation at hand. But before she could pay close attention, she felt someone’s eyes on her. Flicking her gaze over, she spotted Bellamy Blake staring at her. 

He smiled at her, his lips quirking into a wider one as he stared at her over the can he was drinking from. When he picked up that she was looking at him too, he scrunched his nose up at the taste of the alcohol. His similar reaction to hers made a silent chuckle bubble up in her and his smile became beaming at the reaction he’d pulled from her. 

She hadn’t really spoken to Bellamy too much. He was newer to Finn’s friend group and Finn was adamant about the importance of them having separate friends. She totally respected that, but it was still nice to get the chance to know the people he hung out with better. She tried to not be too intrigued by Bellamy, but he felt so different from Finn’s other friends. Tall and muscular, his curly brown hair seemed to be in a naturally messy state at all times––in sharp contrast the particularness that Finn, Dax, and Atom had. They seemed to constantly be preening (despite Dax’s frequent complaints about women doing the same). Bellamy just seemed to exist freely, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Clarke wondered what that could feel like. He was a reassuring presence at the party, for reasons she couldn't pinpoint, but she was thankful to have had at least experienced one reason to smile while she was here.

She was then pulled back into the conversation by Dax’s booming voice as he took his chance to complain.

“Tell me about it, man. I have to go back to fucking Go Sci to see my parents after we get back.”

Clarke blinked rapidly at the word choice he used. As her eyes squinted with curiosity, she found herself looking over to Finn for assistance.

His face was beet red.

Dax didn’t have any friends outside of Finn and Atom (and Bellamy now, she supposed). There weren’t many options of what “we” could have meant. Finn just looked back at her sheepishly.

The stoned girl who’d been complaining about Mecha––was her name Monroe?––excitedly turned to Dax.

“Are you guys going somewhere?”

Dax’s reply came out with excitement and in perfect synchrony to Bellamy’s quiet, “Bardo!”

It was Atom’s turn to cut in. “Blake has invited us back to visit his home this summer. His community celebrates the eclipse, according to their culture and this year is a special one. Apparently only happens every ninety years.” He slid his focus back to Bellamy who nodded to confirm his facts.

Clarke did her best to keep her expression schooled.

She hadn’t heard about this though. 

A trip to Bardo?

That wasn’t just the type of trip you didn’t over the weekend. It took a while to get there, you needed a passport.

She felt her breathing begin to become shallow. _Fuck_ , she couldn’t just start panicking. There was nothing to worry about. Finn just simply hadn’t brought it up to her. So she forced a smile on her face.

“Oh… yeah?” She geared her question to Finn, but she could feel Bellamy’s eyes burning into her from across their half-circle. She desperately hoped he couldn’t read how anxious she was now. They hadn’t had a chance to become friends yet, she didn’t want him to only see her as some type of clingy girlfriend.

Finn cleared his throat, casting a look around at his friends before looking back at her. She tried to not squeeze the beer too tightly in her grip.

“I mean, yeah, we were thinking about maybe––we were talking about it,” was the answer he settled on.

Not sure she completely bought it, Clarke looked around at the other guys. Monroe had slipped away at some point, clearly not interested in the conversation anymore, and Clarke found herself wishing she’d done the same. But she hadn’t and now she was standing here awkwardly with Finn squirming next to her and the guys’ looking at him with confusion. Because this seemingly wasn’t just something they’d “talked about.” And meanwhile Bellamy still hadn’t taken his eyes off of her once. 

“For when?” Her voice came out higher than she would have liked.

Atom frowned, thinking to himself. “Mid June.” 

Dax answered as well with a: “In three weeks!”

At that point, Clarke was unable to hide her astonishment from her expression. So she mumbled an excuse, any excuse, and went to hide in the bathroom for as long as she could without it being too weird. 

A voice in her head, Josie’s probably, nagged her about how _wasn’t communication something she always insisted to be a crucial part about relationships?_

She must have been unsuccessful in her attempts to seem like a completely normal girlfriend, because when he came to find her, Finn’s eyebrows were knitted together in the way they always did when he was frustrated with her. 

The ride back to her place wasn’t too far but they still had to take the L train back. He lived about a ten minute walk from her place and as much as she normally used this type of trip as an excuse to bring up moving in together again, tonight was clearly not the time for it. Her mind was still swirling with his trip to Bardo. A trip that was no doubt far from a minor excursion, or a last minute decision.

The tension carried over as they departed the train, the spring chill still a bit biting in the late evening hours. She hadn’t finished her beer so she didn’t even have the alcohol to help keep her warm.

So that meant that as she hovered awkwardly in the doorway to her own apartment, she fidgeted in the cold. Apparently she’d forgotten to turn on the heat before they’d left. Finn, annoyance still rolling off of him, stalked over to where he’d left his laptop from earlier that day. He flicked it on, pulling up his email and decidedly ignoring her.

But when she didn’t move from the doorway, he eventually looked back up. Her paranoia only spiked at the way that he looked at her.

“Are you okay?” He asked impatiently.

Would it start a fight if she said anything? She _knew_ that he’d never mentioned anything like this to her before, she’d have remembered. But it had been a couple years of them dating at this point, there was no reason he had to hide something like that from her. She couldn’t figure out why he would have. She shifted her posture uncomfortably as she weighed her options.

“Yeah––yeah, I’m fine. I’m okay. That was just weird, you know?”

“Weird?”

His voice was tight, as if he somehow didn’t know what she was talking about. She knew that she was prone to overreact, but her gut told her that she wasn’t this time. She frowned at him.

“The whole Bardo thing. I just didn’t know.”

“What do you mean? I’m sure I’ve mentioned an interest in going before.” 

Clarke supposed that was maybe right. It had been one of the first facts recited to her when she met the newest addition to the group. Bellamy seemed to have an interesting family and as a cultural anthropologist, it wasn’t surprising that Finn was interested in visiting. 

“I get that you wanted to go, I just didn’t realize you’d already decided to go.”

“It was a decision I made today.”

Well that was certainly a possibility, seeing as how Finn was a lot less organized that she was. But that seed of doubt was still planted in her gut. She could see in his expression though that he was locking down, his voice becoming defensive as if she was attacking him. 

“Well,” she tried again, “how long are you going for?”

He cast his eyes elsewhere, away from her.

“A month and a half.”

She tried to not flinch at the length of time, closing her eyes and fighting to take steadying breaths. It was only appropriate to spend that much time there. It would be a waste of time and money otherwise, especially if they were going for what sounded like some type of festival. Sure, there were probably lots of other things to do in Bardo as well. But she’d felt like Finn had been a relatively consistent presence since the night that she’d lost her family. Suddenly losing him for that long was jarring.

“I just wish––I just wish you’d told me,” she finally replied, gritting her teeth into what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

This wasn’t who she was. This wasn’t who she wanted to be.

“I’m sorry, I can’t just give up on this experience that’s come up. It’s literally a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

“I didn’t ask you to not go, I just wish you’d have included me on some level. I don’t have a problem with you going!”

“Well, I just apologized Clarke.”

She wanted to tear her hair out. This conversation was going in circles.

“You didn’t apologize! You said ‘sorry’ in a way that felt a hell of a lot like ‘too bad’ to me.”

Even the words coming out of her felt like a surprise. It was like a lightning rod had struck her; she hadn’t felt that strongly in months.

Finn’s nostrils flared out. He looked absurd and this argument was even more absurd. Josie had always mocked his teenage boy band-esque hair, adding to the general feeling that Clarke was currently arguing with a child right now. How could he not understand what she was trying to say?

“Maybe I should just go home then,” he snapped.

The heat that had been building up in Clarke since being inside, mixed with the argument, immediately left her body. In its place, a cold churning feeling in her gut. He knew she still was struggling to be home by herself and ever since that phone call, had been extremely particular about them never leaving each other during an argument. You just never knew what moment was your last.

“I’m just trying to understand,” she said thickly. “I didn’t need an apology, I just want to talk about it.” She couldn’t fight back the tears that spilled over. She used to feel strong all of the time; now any bit of frustration she felt was overridden by the need to cry. 

She knew Finn hated that phrase–– _just talk about it_ ––called it her “art therapy jargon.” But it was how she knew to best handle things. To talk it out, reach a consensus. 

Finn silently went to snatch his scarf off of the back of her desk chair. He really did want to go.

She scrambled as best as she could. 

“I’m not trying to attack you, Finn!”

“It certainly feels like it,” he snapped back.

The panic that had started in her core was spreading throughout her body. Her apartment felt like a cold, dark tomb. Only a single lamp was on, its golden glow a small orb in the corner. It felt like it was shrinking alongside her own courage. 

“Well… I’m sorry!” She burst out. “I just must have gotten confused. You know how my brain has been lately.”

When Finn remained standing by the door, but not moving now, Clarke took that as a positive step forward. She hurried over to the small loveseat she kept by the window. It was the same couch that her mom had declared that she was proud of the steps she was making forward in her life, it was the couch where Josie had wrung her hands and sobbing about Gabriel the day she’d received the restraining order. And it was where Finn had held her when she’d called him and he’d come over that night, holding and rocking her as she wailed, collapsing under the pressure of realizing how alone in the world she was now.

She propped the pillows up a bit more, fluffing them out and patting the side of the couch next to her.

“Come on,” she coaxed, “come sit with me. I’m sorry, it just felt weird at the party. It was probably the beer too, you know I haven’t had much to drink lately. I think Bardo is an amazing opportunity. Are you maybe thinking of going for your thesis?”

Finn shook his head. But he did take a step closer to her and Clarke felt the twisting pressure on her chest begin to alleviate. 

“I don’t know what my thesis is,” he mumbled quietly. 

Now _this_ , Clarke knew how to work with. Despite the ups and downs that she and Finn had been experiencing lately, supporting each other was second-nature to them. Finn had asked her for her opinion on things and she'd been able to give back to him. They were a team throughout all of this.

“Well, maybe you’ll be inspired by Bardo,” she replied, her tone turning encouraging. “I’m sorry for overreacting. I know how seriously you take your studies and I didn’t even think of connecting your trip to your thesis.”

The couch dipped a little bit as Finn sat next to her. His hand cautiously settled on her knee, a reassuring warm weight on it that made her relax.

It was all just a big misunderstanding.

“It’s okay––I’m sorry too.” He paused, lifting his hand off of her and leaving behind a cold print as he went to gently tuck some of her hair behind her ear. “You know… I was going to ask you to come.”

Clarke stared at him, a beat behind him as she tried to grasp what he just said. 

“What do you mean?”

Finn looked like he was confused by her question, a divot appearing in the crease of his brow as he stared back at her. “...what I just said?”

“To Bardo?” she repeated back, making sure that she understood him as specifically as possible. This conversation had now gone into so many new territories, she wasn’t sure what to believe at this point. It felt like a whiplash, trying to keep up with Finn.

Finn nodded. 

She didn’t feel like his request matched the look in his eyes; a look that she found even with her artist’s background she struggled to describe. 

“Well I just asked you.” His patience was back to being worn thin.

“After I burst into tears!”

He worked his jaw, staring at her. She wanted to ask him what he was thinking, plead with him to tell her what he was holding back behind those murky brown eyes.

“Well,” he finally settled on, “you ruined the surprise. I wanted it to be romantic.”

* * *

The hallway of the apartment building was cold. For someone who bragged about his money, Dax certainly hadn’t seemed bothered in trying to find nicer housing for him and Atom. She shifted her weight, hoping that somehow the inside felt better. She wished the warmth of late spring came faster to Polis.

She was lingering in the cold only to build up her courage to knock on the door. It had been a couple days since the party, a couple days since Finn had invited her to join them on their trip to Bardo. It was a place that hadn’t ever really crossed her mind before, not coming up in her global art studies classes. But that didn’t mean her interest wasn’t piqued, and after a long evening of Finn reassuring her that he wasn’t just doing this so she wouldn’t be mad, she’d accepted the invitation.

Now, she was coming over to join the study group session that he was currently at. Dax and Atom both lived there, and she knew Bellamy was joining as well. As much as she doubted Dax and Atom’s enthusiasm for her joining (even without talking to them yet), she was more curious about Bellamy’s reaction. Was he annoyed that she’d been added to the group? Was he reluctant to share his community’s culture with her, someone he hadn't gotten a chance to know yet?

For some reason, that idea made her stomach clench. 

She didn’t know why the idea of disappointing Bellamy scared her so much. Calling them friends would have been an exaggeration, but acquaintances felt too formal. She wanted to get to know him as herself, not through whatever preconceived ideas the other guys might have given him. Not that she worried about Finn, but she wasn’t sure about Dax or Atom. She hoped they hadn’t built up a false image of her to him leading up to the trip to Bardo. It could be a good chance for her to really get to know Bellamy, to have the chance to make a friend on her own after feeling isolated for so long.

With that thought powering her through her nerves, she reached up and rapped on the door.

She could vaguely make out the sounds of scuffling and muted conversations, both of which immediately cut off as soon as the door was swung open.

“Baby! Glad you made it,” Finn greeted. 

“Hey,” she answered, pausing next to him as he planted a kiss to her cheek before he helped lead her into the living room.

Interior design was a lost cause in the apartment. Posters that felt like they were out of a college dorm room (most likely were) lined the walls and the faint smell of weed tickled her nose. Stacks of books that she instinctively knew belonged to Atom and not Dax covered open space alongside the walls. She didn’t usually come over here. More often than not, Finn would just have her wait downstairs and he’d leave them to come hang out with her. This seemed like a good first step if they were about to spend that much time together soon on this trip. 

“Hi guys.” Her voice sounded forcibly chipper, even to herself. 

Lounging in the living room, the three other guys were sprawled out and each gave a half wave to her as she stood in front of them. Though Bellamy’s wave seemed the most excited, his eyes lighting up as he caught sight of her. 

“How’s it going?” She tried.

“Just chilling,” came Dax’s reply as Atom answered with, “Studying.”

“Nice,” Clarke replied with a hesitant nod.

She was horribly reminded how little she’d ever spoken to them, as much as it felt like she’d known them for a couple years at this point. 

“So… Bardo.” Dax eventually said, breaking the awkward silence.

“Yeah!” Clarke felt herself perk up. The location that would soon become their common ground.

“You’re coming then?” Bellamy spoke up then, grinning widely at her. She found her own smile came naturally in response to his, shyly smiling back at this enthusiasm. Okay, that seemed to take care of her fear that he didn’t want her to join them.

“Yep, it seems like it. I really can’t wait, I’ve done some research since I found out. It seems like it’ll be a beautiful place!” 

“Hey man,” cut in Atom suddenly as he addressed Finn, “can I get your input on a few paragraphs real quick? It’s on the computer in my room.” 

He jerked his head towards the door to his right. Finn glanced from him over to Clarke, who nodded. She didn’t really assume that he was looking for any sort of permission, but maybe he understood that she wasn’t quite comfortable with his friends still. But that seemed to be all he needed and he strode after Dax into his room.

Which left Clarke with Atom and Bellamy.

Atom had decidedly returned to his laptop, typing furiously. Which left one other person in the room who seemed open to talking to her. 

Bellamy smiled as she sat down. A large book lay on his lap, a title referencing something in mythology embossed down in it in gold. 

“So you like myths?” Clarke offered, realizing this was the closest the two of them had had a one-on-one conversation since meeting.

Bellamy nodded. “I do, my mom instilled it in me as a child. Myths, ancient history, all of it. Especially Roman, I even got to name my sister and I chose Octavia of all things.” He let out a light, almost embarrassed laugh. “I’m glad she doesn’t mind its strangeness, at least my own name lends itself to that as well so she’s not alone.”

“Is that not against your culture or something? Sorry,” she quickly added, “I don’t know if that’s considered offensive to ask.” 

That brought out a low chuckle from him. “Not at all. Bardonians don’t find questions bothersome at all, that’s a large part of what life is for you. A lot of our customs are internally developed as well; we came together from a variety of backgrounds in our origin. There’s no one person who looks or behaves like a Bardonian. So yes, questions and understanding everything there is out there is very important to us. It’s why I’m here, to question and to learn what I can.” 

Clarke nodded along as she listened, watching with amusement as Bellamy explained excitedly the support he’d received from his family about what he wanted to study in his time in Polis. Most people, including Finn, just complained about what they studied. It hadn’t made any sense to her, to go to school for that much more time only to hate what you did. But the passion rolled off of Bellamy. His curls seemed to bounce as he talked, his hands as expressive as he was. She was briefly distracted by how she hadn’t noticed his freckles before when she realized he’d asked her a question.

“Oh, uh shit––sorry.” Her face burned. “Could you repeat that?”

“It’s okay,” he assured her, his voice low and warm. He didn’t seem to mind that she’d spaced out. “I was just saying I felt like I’d survived finals, how about you?”

Clarke’s finger instinctively found the loose thread on her jeans. Twisting and tugging it back and forth. 

“I didn’t quite finish. They're giving me a break this year.” She tried to add on as positively as possible. She watched though as Bellamy’s face shuttered all the same.

At first she was worried she’d scared him off. Finn always said it was why society favored optimists, too much sadness made people unsure. But just when she felt panic begin to well up in her, Clarke was surprised by Bellamy reaching out and gently touching her hand with his. And with his soft movement, his hand brought her own to a still, halting the nervous tick with the denim thread. 

“I’m so sorry, Clarke,” he said earnestly. “Of course they are.” 

A wash of relief came over her. There was something about the way he said her name, only being able to think about the way that it felt like he was holding it carefully in his mouth, that made her relax again. 

“I haven’t had a chance to really tell you how sorry I am, about your family,” he continued. “I never knew my dad and I lost my mom not too long ago too.”

The sudden reveal of his own past made tears return to the corner of Clarke’s eyes, though this time not out of her own sadness. There was a bittersweetness to the moment. That he was able to commiserate with her with his own life, a feeling that she wouldn’t wish on anyone. But with a quiet strength that she now realized was just very much a part of Bellamy, she could feel his openness comfort her. It was as if Atom wasn’t even the room anymore, and maybe he wasn’t at this point.

She shakingly put her other hand on top of Bellamy’s, only marveling at the size difference for a brief moment before looking back up at him.

“Thank you for confiding in me,” she said softly. It was overwhelming that he’d been so quick to be open with her and she was once again reminded at how different he felt than Finn’s other friends.

He ducked his head, a hint of a blush teasing at his cheeks. 

“My family tells me a lot that I’m too guided by my heart,” he admitted. 

Clarke’s breath caught in her throat. 

“My mom always told me I used my head too much,” she managed to choke out. “What a pair we are.”

Bellamy’s eyes flicked back to her face, burning brightly.

“What a pair we are,” he repeated softly. 

It felt different when he said it and suddenly Clarke registered how close they were sitting, their knees turned in towards each other. With a flush of embarrassment, she cleared her throat and readjusted herself so that she was sitting more normally. A respectable amount away from him.

“Tell me more about Bardo. I still haven’t done nearly the amount of research I should have, I’m not normally this spontaneous,” she said quickly, attempting to change the subject.

Bellamy shook his head. “Well, the internet will only get you so far. We’re a close community. While there is some information out there in books and online, it doesn’t cover nearly everything.” He smiled again. “That’s the advantage of going with a local.”

The twinkle in his eye was convincing enough to her to believe that he hadn’t been weirded out by their little exchange. Her shoulders relaxed. Despite their limited time together so far, Bellamy seemed in tune with her in a way that she didn’t have to overthink.

“And you’re celebrating… something big?”

“That’s one way to put it. Eclipses are important to us, but this one is a special one. It coincides with the red sun, which only happens every ninety years. So it’s this generations’ first and last one. We have a nine-day festival to fully celebrate and welcome it.” 

“That’s, wow, that’s really cool.” She replied lamely. It was hard to grasp something like that. She’d come from a family with such few traditions, constantly on the lookout to figure out how to keep current, that she’d never thought about what it would be like to come from a family that was in tune with nature or had festivals. But Bellamy continued to be unbothered. She’d seen it at parties, his ability to make you feel like you were important enough to focus on. Now that she knew he was studying mythology, she wondered if he wanted to be a professor. Any type of leader, really. She could see how the way he put effort into people could inspire anyone.

“It is! And being such a small community, it just really allows us to let go and celebrate. Here,” Bellamy paused and pulled out his phone and with a few clicks, opened up a photo album and passed it along to Clarke. “I curated this album so that anytime I’m homesick, I can look back at it and smile. Remember my people.”

She slid her thumb across the screen, slowly taking in each of the photos. Studying them, taking in the joy that shone through the screen.

In a lot of them a younger girl, maybe eighteen or so, beamed up at the camera. Her long brown hair and high cheekbones were different, but just similar enough to Bellamy’s that Clarke wondered if there was a family relationship there. There were large groups of people then, many who didn’t look related at all, hugging and smiling for the camera. She took in the bright blue sky, the blooming flowers and nature around everyone. A far cry from the cold, tech-focused city she’d grown up in. Almost everyone was wearing some type of white outfit, each with a unique and homespun look to it. She paused on a photo of a woman with wild curly brown hair adorned with a flower crown, smiling warmly up at her from the screen. The familiarity of which the woman had made eye contact with the camera, no doubt Bellamy behind it, made Clarke’s insides feel fuzzy, so before she could think about that too much she clicked it shut and quickly passed it back.

“It looks stunning, I really can’t wait to go. Especially now that I see how friendly everyone looks.”

Bellamy let a thoughtful pause get drawn out between them before leaning towards her again. She felt a similar buzz in her veins from when they’d been close to each other moments ago. 

“You know, I think it’s really good that you’re coming,” he commented assertively. His smile widened and she was once again starstruck by his freckles, before noticing a tiny scar above his lip.

“I think you’ll really find a connection there.”


	2. Welcome to Bardo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was in the middle of working on my Bellarke, gothic romance AU oneshot and then out of nowhere, the inspiration to write this chapter hit me with full force. So thus you’re getting this chapter earlier than planned! This update was wonderfully prompted by an anonymous supporter through The 100 Fic for BLM Initiative. If you want to learn more about it, you can check out the carrd for it [here](https://t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co/)! 
> 
> I’m so thankful for the amazing response this story has received already. It’s hands down some of the most conversation I’ve been able to have with readers and it makes me so happy! As a general note for all upcoming chapters, I’m going to include more specific content warnings for each one at the author’s note at the end of the page. All of the main tags are still relevant but this will be if you want a heads up about what’s to come!
> 
> Happy reading!

Flying, in of itself, could be an overwhelming experience. And Clarke hadn’t flown since her junior year of college when she and her family had flown for a beach vacation. Abby Griffin was a notorious over-planner and it had been a seamless morning. Josie had been in between breakdowns and everything had felt just as it should. Clarke was still a planner but traveling with family was quite a bit different than traveling with a handful of graduate students where most of whom are just your acquaintances at best.

So needless to say, when three weeks had passed and it was time to leave, Clarke didn’t feel as prepared as she would have liked to have been. 

Finn had almost forgotten his passport (Clarke had reminded him three times that morning), Atom had needed to pay for extra weight in his luggage he’d brought so many books, and Dax had already managed to make three sexual comments about women walking past them and been yelled at by one security guard for trying to smoke his juul inside. 

But Bellamy had been waiting for them with breakfast after getting through security and somehow the lukewarm coffee and bagel had set everything right. How he managed to be so calm, when Clarke could feel her usual frazzled nerves fraying even more, she didn’t know. Maybe his community was onto something about their approach to life.

So all in all, Clarke had thought it could have been a worse morning than it ended up being.

But then they got on the plane.

And that was when the calm that had been slowly coming to Clarke dissipated.

She was fine through takeoff, not actually scared of flying, and she’d made it about ten minutes past the announcement that you could take out your electronics. Hell, it was even a perfectly smooth flight with no turbulence. But that didn’t stop the dread from slowly creeping up on her. The inside of the plane wasn’t small––it had rows of ten seats across--but she felt like it was closing in on her. 

Anxiety had a funny talent like that. She knew there was nothing wrong, that she was perfectly safe. But she’d been on edge for the whole year leading up to  _ that _ day and ever since then, it hadn’t mattered how fine things seemed. It didn’t stop that pool of anxiety filling up her gut.

The plastic-like material of the seat squeaked as Clarke tried to subtly adjust her weight without disturbing Finn’s sleep. He was completely passed out and she envied him. His head was knocked back, hair flopped around him, and his jaw slack as he let out a soft snore. In front of him, a movie continued to play silently. She would have given anything to be able to fall asleep with headphones on and zero sleeping pills, especially for how deep of a slumber he was in. But that wasn’t the case for her and she instead sat restlessly.

An unbidden memory of her last flight came to mind as she tightly gripped the chair’s armrest. 

_ “When I’m done with school, you won’t catch me dead in coach class,” Josie had whispered to her, her hair tickling her jaw as she leaned over Clarke and she flicked the armrest with distaste. “Do you know how many germs people leave back here? Guarantee that they clean first class better than this.” _

Clarke shut her eyes tightly, but that only made the memory of her sister stronger.

_ A snap of bubblegum, her oversized sunglasses pulled down as if she was some sort of celebrity. The two of them sharing headphones, leaning together as Clarke sketched and Josie read her biology books. As flighty as she was, Josie enjoyed startling people with her intelligence.  _

_ “Leave them underestimating you,” she’d lectured at Clarke after she’d weaseled two free mini rum bottles from the flight attendant. “They’ll never see it coming.” _

Well, Clarke had underestimated her alright.

Underestimated her to the point of letting her kill their parents, taking them with her and leaving Clarke all by herself.

Selfish bitch.

With a gasp at the ugly thought, a cry almost bursting out of her, Clarke jerked herself out of her seat. Thank god the seatbelt sign had been off as she clambered to her feet, only somewhat jostling Finn in the process who simply leaned into the window and remained asleep. The seat next to her was empty, meaning that Clarke could stumble into the aisle without tripping over anyone’s legs or having to awkwardly ask them to move. 

She didn’t even look at the sign as she hurried to the bathroom. It was thankfully unoccupied though and after struggling with it a couple times, she finally managed to yank it open and slide herself into the cramped quarters of the lavatory where she was finally able to burst into tears.

She wasn’t sure how long she cried. Hopefully the white noise of the plane drowned out the sound; she didn’t have the capacity right now to worry about trying to mute herself. 

She was just so. Damn. Upset.

Every emotion was overwhelming. 

She was so consumed by it all. The pressure that had always been expected of her to look after Josie even when they were young. The responsibility of planning out the funerals for her entire family. The way the isolation dragged her down until she wondered if she was a good person or not anymore, if any of it really mattered. 

She’s almost heaving into the sink at this point as she tries to control her sobbing. Trying to regain control of her body, even though she hasn’t felt that way since the phone call. 

Eventually, when no doubt people have been annoyed at the occupied bathroom sign for an extended period of time, her cries subsides into hiccups and whimpers. And from there, silence.

As she patted her face with cold water, she reminded herself of what she knew to be true and what her therapist had reminded her about right after the funeral: she didn’t think Josie was a bitch or some awful person. She had been hurting and her solution had been one that had in exchange, hurt Clarke. She, in turn, was still in control of herself as a person and being the last one of her family didn’t mean that she was alone. And that she had the power to still choose to live, regardless of what had happened. 

The blotchiness of her cheeks began to settle into her normal skin tone. Still there, but far from the ruddiness that had bloomed during her breakdown. She pulled back her hair into a fresh braid to get it out of the limp bun she’d left it in. 

A shuddering breath.

She could do this.

The door folded open and she slunk past a bored looking teenager who didn’t give her a second glance before he slid in behind her. 

The walk back to her feet felt like a strange walk of shame, which she knew was irrational. So she does her best to square up her shoulders, find some semblance of who she felt like she once had been. Which, a part of her considers, would be what Josie would have wanted from her. She would have probably been appalled at the shell Clarke had let herself become.

But that strong facade fades when Finn doesn’t say anything when she sits down, now fully awake. Instead, he just gives her a thumbs up and points at the screen in front of him that shows the remaining part of their trip. 

She forces a smile back.

When Finn falls asleep later though, both of them having quickly eaten the shitty plane food, Clarke felt a light tap on her arm. 

She pulled her head up from reading her book to look right into the warm, dark brown eyes of Bellamy.

They both have headphones so she just watched as he silently mouthed, “Are you okay?”

He’d been the only one to notice her breakdown then.

Rather than being flooded with embarrassment (her usual reaction when someone other than Finn saw her like that), Clarke found herself giving him a half-smile and nodding.

The concern that had been etched into his brow smoothed out and he smiled back, a matching small one that felt like it belonged to just the two of them. And as Clarke returned to her reading and him to whatever book he was reading as well, she found herself allowing the excitement for the trip to truly return.

* * *

Clarke found that she had to agree with Dax that foreign cars were absolutely too small. But the tiny rental car that they’d gotten was the one they were stuck with and it was that tiny car that was now bringing them closer to Bellamy’s community.

Bellamy had also insisted that she sit up front, smoothly saying he’d noticed that she’d felt ill on the plane ride over and didn’t want her to worry about being carsick.

She’d only managed to blink once in surprise before going along with it and thanking him. Because really, the front passenger seat was the best alternative because she no doubt would have been crammed into the middle and even though she’d never once been carsick in her life, she still could feel the remnants of the panic attack. And somehow, like everything, it was like Bellamy instinctively knew that about her and gave her the out of not having to sit with the other guys.

Beyond all of that though, she was thankful for the clear view as they began to drive through Bardo’s countryside.

It really is beautiful and slowly, the deeper in the drive, the more it feels like she left that panic attack back on the plane in the sky.

The conversations between all of them ebb and flow as they go, falling in and out as they all take in the trip. Though of course, Dax manages to fuck it up some at one point. They’re at a stop sign, the sun shining in and Clarke feels like a cat with the way she positioned herself against the door and window, stretching to the light when––

“Oh my god dude, Finn, the women here!” Dax’s voice broke through her thoughts as he let out a whistle at two young women walking past the car.

She didn’t know why she had to bring it to Finn’s attention but she pushed herself to ignore it. Beside her, she caught Bellamy’s quick look and she just smiled back at him. He gave her a self-conscious half nod. Maybe he was used to it; he was friends with them after all. And in a way, she was used to it too she supposed. So she shrugged and returned to looking out the window and letting the sun warm her up. The scenery made her fingers itch to paint in a way they hadn’t in years so she let her mind drift away, imagining the paint strokes required to capture the rolling hills.

An hour and a half in, Clarke tilted her head towards Bellamy. “How far are we driving?”

“About four hours,” he replied easily. He had one arm resting alongside the window, the other casually holding onto the top of the steering wheel. 

Dax groaned from behind them at his response. 

Shifting in her seat, Clarke glanced back at the three crowded men. Dax was now leaning out the window, trying to keep his Juul smoke outside after Finn had lectured him. Finn, in turn, was checking something on his phone. Her eyes landed on the book in Atom’s lap. It was a dark red book with the title  _ The Secret Fascist Language of the Sangedakru.  _

“Why are you reading that?”

Atom gave a long look with a crooked smile. “Ask Bellamy.”

Her eyes shifted back to the man in question and she caught him rolling his eyes. 

“We’re taught the runic alphabet in my community. Atom carries that around to annoy me.”

“But do you disagree that Second Dawn could have done more to prevent the spread of ALIE?” Atom argued back, leaning forward in his seat. He was always prepared for some type of academic argument but Bellamy didn’t seem as willing to bite. 

“Your founder––”

“Did what he thought was right,” Bellamy interjected calmly. “As many leaders have in history.” His eyes slid to Atom’s in the rearview mirror. “Are you prepared to go down the line in how Arkadia has failed other countries? When they’ve chosen to intervene too late or when they’ve intervened for their own purposes? Don’t tell me you actually celebrate Unity Day with a good conscience every year?” 

Atom licked his bottom lip anxiously, but remained silent.

Clarke couldn’t tell if Bellamy had really won that argument, but he’d certainly settled it for now.

His expression was still light and his tone conversational, but as she stole a closer look she could see the tightness in his eyes. It was curious to finally have the chance to watch them interact after having been kept at such an arm’s length previously. She couldn’t help but feel a wave of protection towards Bellamy in the situation.

The heated discussion fizzled out as they drove on and finally, a little while later into the drive, they drove underneath a banner emblazoned with a bright red WELCOME TO SECOND DAWN. Clarke craned her neck to get a better look at it, only briefly being able to get a glimpse of the abstract phoenix embroidered onto it. Her hands once again twitched with the desire to capture all of this in art form. Maybe there would be paper once they got there.

Just shy of their four hour mark, an estimate that Bellamy had correctly guessed, he eased the car over to the side. 

“A little pre-festival party,” he explained to the curious eyes that turned to him, a small smirk gracing his features.

A pasture amongst the trees, the gently rolling hills around them were spotted with small canvas tents and a handful of young adults all milling around. Clarke did a full-body stretch as she stepped out of the car, everyone finding their footing after a long drive and an even longer plane ride. With the sun shining down on them, the sky a bright baby blue above them, it felt like a far cry from the world that Clarke had left behind. It was almost fairytale like, her eyes taking in the flowers dotting the field. 

“Bellamy!”

The group turned at the sound of a deep voice calling out towards them. A man possibly only a few years older than them was jogging over, a welcoming smile on his face. He and Bellamy quickly embraced, hugging for a long time before pulling apart. 

“Friends, this is my brother Roan,” Bellamy said excitedly, patting the man on the chest.

“Really?” Dax asked, quickly looking between the two. “I uh, don’t really see the family resemblance.”

He wasn’t wrong. Roan wasn’t much taller than Bellamy, but his broadness was nearly twice that of Bellamy’s and his hair hung long and lighter brown. They had almost zero features in common either. But Dax’s comment brought a laugh out of both of them.

“No, not by blood,” Bellamy explained, “but by discipleship. We are all family in our community.”

“And obviously I’m more attractive,” Roan added on, shooting a wink over to Clarke who couldn’t help but grin. 

“Roan, these are my friends from school. Atom, Dax, Finn, and Clarke.” Bellamy gestured at each of them down the line and it was impossible for Clarke to miss the way that Roan’s eyes lingered on her almost in familiarity at her introduction. He repeated the names back, pretending to forget Dax’s name to everyone’s amusement  _ except _ for Dax, and then he turned and waved to two people lagging behind him.

“And these are my friends! Companions from my time in Azgeda who were nice enough to join me for the festival. Everyone, this is Ontari and Titus.” 

Ontari was about Clarke’s age from the look of it. A shrewd smile on her face was accented by the tight ponytail she kept her hair back in and she cooly gave a nod to each of them. Titus might have been a bit older, but looked like he could have been a grad student as well. His bald head shined in the sunlight and he seemed much more serious than the dry-humor sense that Roan gave off. Clarke felt her curiosity pique at their presence and relationship to Roan. 

“Titus studies old world religions and Ontari studies alternative governments and leadership,” Roan was still explaining to the others. That seemed to fit with Finn, Dax, and Atom’s fields and Clarke chewed at her lip as she wondered if she really had a role in being here. Everyone else seemed so much more at home, at least in having a better appreciation for the history and culture they were about to see. 

Titus was in the middle of explaining his current research on theistic practices and how they were represented in modern media when a shriek of excitement broke through.

Just as Clarke began to process that it was time to meet yet another person, a figure came barreling through and tackled Bellamy in a hug. When the two broke apart, Bellamy nodded to all of the new people of the group. “This is my sister, Octavia! And yes,” with a jerk of his head towards Dax, “my actual blood-related sister.”

Octavia introduced herself to everyone and Clarke recognized her as one of the people from the photos she’d seen on Bellamy’s phone those weeks ago. She was even prettier in person, sharper too. The similarities in their features was more pronounced in person, though the differences lingered in different ways. Everyone in this community seemed to have a level of attractiveness that ventured on unfair at this point. She seemed genuinely excited to meet everyone though, somehow giving off a vibe of being much cooler than all of them but still down-to-earth. 

“You know,” Dax commented, “this doesn’t feel nearly as culty as I thought it would.” He gave Bellamy a soft punch to the arm, who simply rolled his eyes but still smiled good-naturedly at the half-compliment. Octavia snickered at the comment and Roan only smiled mysteriously. He seemed to be someone who kept a guard up, Clarke quickly analyzed from him. She wondered if it would be something they’d see come down during their time here.

Octavia took the break in conversation to turn to Bellamy. 

“Perfect timing by the way Big Brother,” she said with a grin. And from the brown leather side satchel she was wearing, she pulled out a small clear bag and passed it over. “Lincoln and I just took these five minutes ago, haven’t even started coming up yet.”

Closer inspection from everyone revealed the contents of the bag appeared to be some type of edible mushroom. 

“They’re a type of mushroom called Jobi,” Bellamy explained. “It’s a local fungi that grows here.”

“It’s the perfect way to kick off the festival,” Octavia added with a mischievous grin. 

Atom nodded. “Psychedelic mushrooms are common in small, nature-focused communities. Usually as a source of medicine but of course, doesn’t have to be limited to that,” he explained, intrigue lacing his words as he attempted to academically write-off his interest in the experience. 

“Yeah, and you definitely need it to loosen up some,” Octavia teased him and Clarke didn’t miss the blush that tinged his cheekbones at the sudden focus from the young woman.

“Well, so should we take them now?” Dax asked excitedly, spreading his arms. “Look around us! Seems like the best place to do it.” Roan nodded enthusiastically in response. 

The excitement Clarke had been feeling at all of the new people and the fresh air faded as everyone debated it. She doesn’t have a lot of experience with drugs, especially since Josie died. Her sister had been the experimental one while Clarke had been usually satisfied with a flask of something. Getting high hadn’t been high on her priority list with all of the panic attacks and such. 

Clarke swallowed nervously, staring intently at the bag in Bellamy’s hand before glancing over at Finn.

“I think I might need to find my footing first,” she said quietly to him. Finn’s brow furrowed as he looked over at her, reaching to grasp her hand.

“Yeah of course.” Dropping his voice even lower he added, “And you know you don’t need to take them.”

She hated the idea of not being able to participate though. They’d come all of the way here and it wasn’t like she was against drugs either. But she couldn’t shake the uneasiness that swirled in her gut as she watched Bellamy pass some out. 

“No, I just need to be settled.”

Finn nodded. “Okay, well I’ll wait for you.”

Now that felt like babying and a memory from the night she found out about this trip resurfaced in her mind. She hated the idea that she’d be the stick in the mud with this. 

“No! Go ahead!”

“No, I’ll wait,” Finn reiterated. “We’ll come up together.”

By this point, everyone had some of the Jobi mushrooms in hand and were watching them. Heat burned in the back of Clarke’s neck as she felt their eyes on her and Finn. Wasn’t this what Finn always complained about? Making a scene?

“Ready?” Bellamy asked kindly, now just beside Fin. He cast a quick, almost missable glance at Clarke, his question almost more to her than to him. 

“I’m waiting for Clarke, you guys go on.” Finn said resolutely.

Dax frowned at that, taking a quick hit on his Juul before shaking his head. “Dude, we can’t come up at different times. They’ll be totally separate trips.” 

“Then you can wait for us.” Finn’s response came out snappier than usual and Dax’s expression grew more sullen and frustrated, almost angry. The two of them seemed to be having a silent conversation and the rising tension settled the issue for Clarke.

“You know what?” She said brightly, steadily turning to Bellamy, “That’s okay. I’m ready.”

“Baby, don’t feel rushed.” Finn unwound his fingers from her hand and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. The almost-babying from earlier, while supportive, now soured into patronizing.

She hated that fucking nickname.

Everyone was really staring at them now. Titus with a blank expression, Ontari with a subtle smirk. Atom seemed practically bored with the whole thing, as if he was above it all, and instead kept glancing towards Octavia. And Bellamy was watching her patiently, waiting to see if she’d change her mind. 

“I don’t,” she replied resolutely, shooting her hand out with her palm up to receive her own helping of it. “I’m ready.”

Clarke wasn’t sure what she was expecting once she ate her helping of the Jobi mushroom. Bellamy had tapped his against hers and with a grin said, “Think happy thoughts!”

Octavia had walked away to rejoin whoever Lincoln was and then at some point they’d all sat down on one of the hills. 

She hadn’t thought it was working for a little while but she slowly felt her body sink into the ground, relaxing and easiness taking over her limbs. She slowly moved her head back and forth, taking in the scenery around them. Bardo really was a beautiful country. She was glad she came. 

She glanced down at her hand.  _ Oh _ . 

There was grass growing out of it.

She watched curiously as the blades emerged from her skin, swaying gently in the breeze. Clarke’s head cocked, trying to figure out what would happen to the grass if she moved her hand. 

Was the grass connecting her to the ground?

Or would it move with her as she did?

To her left, she passively recognized Bellamy explaining to Dax why it was still so bright out considering the late house. She blinked slowly, looking up from her hand to look around them. It really was bright out. So disorienting to think about.

Bellamy seemed to notice that she’d begun to pay attention, shifting his posture to lean closer to her. 

“Can you feel the energy coming up from the earth?” He asked excitedly.

Could he see the grass too? 

“Mmm… Earth,” she repeated after him. “That’s the dream.”

His smile widened in amusement at her musings.

Atom was behind them and simply hummed in response at Bellamy’s question. Finn nodded along to her right.

“Yeah,” he drawled out, looking around. “It’s like––pulsing.”

Bellamy pointed around them. “And so are the trees. They’re breathing.”

Clarke tilted her head back and felt her breath catch in her throat.

“Oh my god, they are,” Finn replied, his voice strangled with awe.

The trees  _ were _ breathing. Swelling and deflating with life, arching their trunks and limbs to loom over them. The wood groaned in the breeze and in its movement. Reaching closer and closer to Clarke, as if to touch her to see if she was as real as they were.

“Nature just knows instinctively how to stay in harmony. It’s mechanical. Everything doing its part,” Bellamy mused. “Just like how we approach life here.” 

Out of nowhere, separate from the conversation they were having, Dax piped up. 

“You guys are my family,” he called out, suddenly emotional sounding.

The word “family” hit Clarke right in the chest.

“I really mean that,” he continued, “you guys are my real, actual family.”

An echo of her cell phone ringing echoed through Clarke’s mind and the warm, soft soil turned to cold linoleum tiles beneath her feet.

She sat up, overwhelmed. She was suffocating. Next to her, Finn shifted and looked over at her, smiling when he caught her attention. She balked at him.

It felt false. Like a mask that had been plastered to her face.

Fear coursed through her, her breathing growing shallow as her eyes widened at him.

He seemed to sense that she was scared and his own expression grew fearful. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out. This trip was turning south quickly. She jumped to her feet. “I’m going to walk.”

If anyone tried to coax her to stay, she didn’t process it. 

Her feet led her on their own, taking her down the hill from where they’d sat and back down to the pasture. She didn’t know where Roan and his friends had gone. Maybe if she squinted she could see Octavia’s slim silhouette dancing beside someone. But she was too far away, increasingly far away as it felt like her perspective stretched out in front of her. There was no horizon in sight.

She stumbled along, her limbs feeling jerky and out of her control. Her panic was mounting.

Parts of the dirt beneath her (where were her shoes?) were still the tile from her kitchen. A walkway for her, guiding her. 

She paused for a moment at a group of young people. They must be here for the festival too; they were all wearing flower crowns. When they spotted her, they paused their conversation and then burst into laughter.

“No, no, no, no,” Clarke mumbled to herself, backing away from them.

They had to be laughing at her, right?

Or was it the drugs? 

Was there even a group of people there? 

She turned the other direction, frantic to get away from them and the cawing of laughter that emitted from them. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” she mumbled.

The tile melted away too.

She must be safe then.

An outhouse was up ahead. She hurried towards it.

The inside was illuminated by a single candle and the dark encased her as she closed the door, save for the single spot of warm dancing light. 

Her first thought was that she was in a coffin. A coffin lowering her into this deep ground beneath the breathing trees that wanted to entangle her in their branches.

The image was horrifying, suffocating, and she quickly shook her head to try and rid her mind of it.

“Hey!” She reprimanded herself out loud, “No it’s not!” 

Her voice was hoarse and she felt ridiculous talking to herself. Some art therapist she would be if this kept up.

Taking halting, shuddering breaths, she leaned over the sink. It felt like she was back on the airplane, panicking in the lavatory. This time though she wasn’t quite panicking, or at least not as much as she had then. The tears that had tracked down her face on the walk over had dried, leaving faint reflections on her cheeks. She was teetering on the edge of it. Her grip tightened on the sink, staring at herself hard in the mirror. For a moment, her face seemed to swirl in the reflection so she quickly shut her eyes. Trying to even her labored breathing.

_ It’s just the drugs. It’s just the drugs. _

Her internal monologue eventually died out and she quickly turned on the faucet to splash the icy cold water onto her face. 

And then she looked back in the mirror and saw Josie standing behind her.

She was silent. 

Twirling her hair like she always did, winding and unwinding it around her finger. A nasy habit that she’d always gotten lectured about. 

Snapping her gum, silent in sound but Clarke felt the reverberation in her ears nonetheless. 

She was frozen in place. She couldn’t stop staring at her sister.

And then Josie’s arm slowly fell to her side as she let go of her hair. Dropping it to her side.

Her face contorted and Clarke watched as a long yellow tube slowly materialized in front of her. The lower half of Josie’s face became obscured by tape and then her eyes turned filmy as her skin turned to ash.

Clarke let out a scream of anguish and whirled around.

The apparition was gone.

Heaving, Clarke shoved the outhouse door open and stumbled into the brightness. Into the sunshine and the nature that reminded her that she was alive and that Josie wasn’t here. She spun in circles, trying to remember how to get back to the group. She had to let herself come down from the high around others. Suddenly the idea to be alone during this seemed so foolish. 

On the third spin around, her head dizzy, she ran into a hard form.

Her breath came out of her in a whoosh and warm, solid hands grasped at her to keep her from stumbling over. And she looked up into the concerned eyes of Bellamy.

“Clarke, are you okay?” He asked her urgently, his eyes flicking over her body as if looking for injury. She shook her head and while some of the concern lifted from his face, not all of it did. Nor did his hands leave her. 

In fact, one thumb gently traced circles on her arm and it was only then that she realized how frantic her breathing still was from the hallucination. 

Around them, the trees still billowed in and out, visual cues for her to pace her own breathing and lungs to. Bellamy’s touch, warm from the sun and the earth, was grounding her back to reality. It didn’t feel like as much of a fight to slowly regain control of her breathing again and as she did, she watched him relax as well. 

“You’re okay, Clarke,” he said quietly to her.

“You’re here,” she said, not acknowledging his statement but feeling her body’s tension ebbing away. 

She knew she was still high. That had to explain why all she could see in his freckles was rays of sunlight and how safe he felt. She felt like a storm, chaos raging through her body as her mind spun out of control. Bellamy had said that day in Dax’s apartment that he was all heart and she could feel it radiating from within him. It was clearing the darkness that followed her and it burned away the memories that had followed her back into the outhouse. 

“Let’s get you some sleep,” he instructed gently. “Everyone’s starting to come down anyway and then tomorrow we’ll make our way to the village.” 

His mention of sleep makes her realize that yes, her body is very tired. From flying to driving to what was a relatively disastrous psychedelic experience, her body wanted nothing more to succumb to sleep. 

So as the sunshine dimmed, hinting that maybe after all it had the potential to turn into night, Bellamy helped lead her back to where the others were. As they walked through the trees, his hand never left hers. Clarke gripped it tightly, letting him help guide her back to the meadow. 

She wondered if Finn had thought to come after her. Or maybe Bellamy had volunteered; he knew the area better after all.

He was probably in love with one of the pretty girls who lived here in his community anyway––that’s why it wouldn’t have meant anything even if she was overthinking this. He had a whole world of people who saw life the way he did. He was being a good friend and  _ just  _ a good friend.

That had to be all it was.

But for the walk back, as the plants around them bent over and waved to her as they walked back as the remaining elements of her high, Clarke didn’t worry about it. Or anything really. 

And when sleep took her, inside the small canvas tent with Finn’s arm tight around her waist, she had her first nightmare-free sleep in months. Dreamless except for vague imagery: a feeling of heat, so different than the cold it felt like she was steeped in. The warm weight of someone’s hand holding her own, keeping her from floating away––one that didn’t belong to one of her family members and, even in sleep, knew didn’t belong to Finn. Holding her, supporting her. Reminding her of home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Specific content warnings for this chapter:**
> 
>   * Clarke experiences a panic attack
>   * Internal conversations from Clarke surrounding Josphine’s suicide and the murder of their parents (Clarke is struggling with how to accept her new reality so her thoughts towards this are more unforgiving –– this is not meant to be a reflection on how people should or should not feel towards those who have passed from or have attempted suicide)
>   * Psychedelic drug use that involves detailed hallucinations, including mild body horror and descriptions of a dead body
> 

> 
> As I mentioned in the first chapter, if you’re interested in prompting the next chapter to secure it in my lineup of WIPs you can either do a monetary donation or a non-financial contribution through the initiative, as outlined on [our carrd](https://t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co/). I should have a new oneshot completed soon as well! 
> 
> **where else you can find me:** [Tumblr](https://she-who-the-river-could-not-hold.tumblr.com/) | [Twitter](https://twitter.com/the_river_held) | [my carrd](https://she-who-the-river-could-not-hold.carrd.co/)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again for checking this AU out! I’m having a lot of fun combining different canon story elements into Bardo and what Bellamy’s community is like, which you’ll get to learn more about in the upcoming chapters! If you get the chance, don’t forget to check out t100 Fic for BLM! We just raised over $7k and we’re so excited about what’s to come! Also a note on multi-chapters in the initiative: I will be continuing to write these stories regardless, but donating for a chapter update secures its line up in my list of WIPs right now. You can always do a monetary donation, but we have other non-financial ways to contribute listed on [our carrd](https://t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co/) as well. 
> 
> **where else you can find me:** [Tumblr](https://she-who-the-river-could-not-hold.tumblr.com/) | [Twitter](https://twitter.com/the_river_held) | [my carrd](https://she-who-the-river-could-not-hold.carrd.co/)


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